As the World Turns

Man, has it ever been a long time since I've done this. I think I forgot how. I guess I just wanted to leave my mark for the month of April.

Lately, I've been kind of stepping away from the online social scene -- even the ones that involve "real" friends like Facebook. I've become quite disconnected with this side of life. I guess it seems that for me, as my 3D life becomes more full, this one becomes somewhat deflated. Connections that were so close have all but faded. This entire world seems like a dream.

I'm becoming more settled in some aspects of my life, but more disheveled in other areas. Or maybe not more disheveled ... maybe it feels that way because it's more of a focus. Who knows how the mind works.

 I'm doing much better than I was! Sometimes I feel like just as I am making headway with my thoughts and my feelings and with the whole nature of how the Universe works, I come across land mines.

I'm walking along my jolly way and then, BOOM, something explodes in my face (like my car)  just waiting for my reaction. It's almost like it's a test ... this girl says she's changing her thought patterns, eh?  Well, let's find out for ourselves.

I'm human. In that moment, I see disaster. I don't see a way out. I see me 1 year  ago when I could barely breathe.

But then I just take that deep breath. And I close my eyes. And I remember that I fashion my life -- not outside circumstances.

I decide how my life will be and what I will focus on. It's a powerful thing when you realize that with just a little brain work, you can let the things that used to paralyze you for days completely roll off your shoulder with nothing more than a hint of residue.

It's the weekend of my 34th birthday. I'm astonished at how much I've evolved!  I'm happy with who I've become! 34 can only get better. 

I have 39 days until the end of the school year and yes, I'm happy! My agenda is filled with summer travel plans. 

I will write more often here as I've always found peace here.  Happy April!

You missed me

You know when you're in a relationship that just isn't working for whatever reason, but because you're in the thick of it you can't see clearly enough to get why or get out?

That's what blogging became for me - it's not you, it's me. No, really - for whatever reason writing became more of a daily chore. More about reader numbers and meeting some invisible, entirely self-imposed expectations than losing myself in the writing and in the companionship, the original reasons I got into this here interwebs deal. Silly, isn't it? I don't know how I got there, but . . .

It has also grown, um, weird putting my personal life on the internet, particularly with more real-life friends - hi, real-life friends! - (yes, I have a few) (pinky swear) - reading here, a sort of one-sided TMI experiment that made for some awkward conversations.

I've hit this blogging speed bump before, and this too shall pass. I'll find a new path, a different way to enjoy writing. I do miss the writing, the picture taking, and - most importantly - you all.

Until then, however, backing away seems like the right answer, and I'm really enjoying the time it has freed up for me to re-focus on the little big things: my students!

 

 

I Can't Allow all of this Crap to Dull my Sparkle!

This thing called life has taken me by the balls! Life is short, but sweet for certain. My close friend was diagnosed in December with
Brain tumors and died eight weeks later while calling out for me on his death bed. I started losing my hair in November, developed anxiety in January. My buddy died in February. Life has been a real freaking challenge to put it mildly.

Two years ago I went through what is my deepest ache-the one that left the floor and I intimately familiar. Yes, while seemingly trite it was my first, real, heartbreak, the heaviness loss of my daddy.

I'm acutely aware that what people struggle with in the larger scheme of life,cancer, murder, etc however, the dark hours that followed for me were as a result of this experience of losing my buddy. The point isn't that specific experience but the things that I carried from it as a result; you will not feel this depth of pain, to this capacity forever. Even when it feels like it now, the Gods above will grant you some respite before you crumble. And, the most important one was this; It is our job to lift people up. Caring, is not a "special personality trait" it is what we are here to do. If we aren't genuinely caring, unconditionally loving, connecting- holding and selflessly giving to those around us, what matters?

Meet Angela. She was the girlfriend of my buddy who ultimately made his last weeks hell. There is a special place in Hell for people like her who harm unarmed people.

When I was heaving in a ball, clutching my heart you were planning, scheming, sending prayers and notes. With no expectation, just to 'wave
hello' that you were out there, thinking of me. I didn't realize the expansiveness of what it felt like to be HELD until I went through that. But, the thing I also didn't prepare for was; In order for me to heal, part of what I needed to do was reveal to those dear, the parts of
me that were still aching.


While, I see infinite magic, miracles and awe in this singular precious life that we're living, I recognize and acknowledge that there is true pain and heartbreak happening. That we're all surviving and navigating through our own suffering. We're experiencing loss of our loved ones, our visions, our self-control, our fortitude. Our minds. We're hurting. We each have different degrees of pain, on different timelines, wearing different outfits. But all of us have it. Which makes this whole COMPASSION thing, pretty essential.

Be there before someone needs to ask. Rush to their side. Assume they need tequila. Or Starbucks. Assume they need you to listen. Assume they need a bowl of spaghetti. Be still and silent. Expand your own heart and test your humanity by beving brave enough to truly comprehend what they must be feeling. When the words on the tip of your tongue are just answers for YOU, reevaluate them and give words made for who's in front of you. Take yourself out of the picture. Reserve your need to find a solution, or be right, or make a judgment and realize that by presently being with someone the answers you thought you had for them, actually work both ways and that there's something they're teaching you too. Make a little more space in your heart!

In my situation, I only had a select few who knew to what level I was hurting because nobody could know how much I indeed cared for my friend. That was difficult. Only his mother knew and a really close doctor friend of mine.

Pour one out for your homie! Or dedicate a prayer, mindfully.

Send out a practice. A poem. A card that says, "...we'll find our 'happy.'" Send pears, or cabernet, bad chick flicks, or text messages full of emoticons.

Feed. Nurture. Nap with. Peel. DO THE HEAVY LIFTING. All for someone else.

...and if you are in the place of asking; it's okay.

Declare what you are and what you are not. What can be and what you need a little help with for awhile.

Give your pain a name and let the people who love you, snuggle up next to that distinct, bitter anguish and let them endure the thing with you. When you feel stale and vacuous, ask for a sip of their light to start the engines again. Then let them sweep you away from the ache, if even for a moment and make you smile again. Let them distract you. Take you on an adventure. Stimulate your senses, through food and music and newness. Let those around you make you feel alive again, when you're enduring the deepest opaque moments, when you think it isn't possible- feel. Alive!

There's a reason we have the ability to hold each other. So keep your arms open.

If sleep, or the night. If food, or the mirror. If loneliness, or the silence. If unanswerable questions, or the confusion. If the ability to make a five minute plan, let alone a 5 year plan is plaguing you, we're here.

When you need a ride. Someone to tell you a story. A partner in crime. Physical presence. A light. Someone to count to three for you so you can scream on four. A person to look you in the eyes and say, "...you're going to be okay." When you need these things, ASK. But more than asking, be these things. This is our job, it is part of the human condition to take care of one another.

Me

I myself

am made up of flaws

and

stitched together

with

good intentions

Adele - Someone Like You For Brian

Putting a Fork in it

The best way to never be disappointed? Don't expect anything from anyone.



This is what I keep repeating when I'm trying to convince myself that I have every right to be disappointed.


Sometimes it works. Sometimes it doesn't.


Expectations are a dangerous thing. They lead you down this road full-speed ahead and it's so hard to stop. It's this road where everything is as it should be in your head. A road filled with people who behave in the ways you'd want them to behave and who say the things you'd want them to say.


It's a road that has the people around you falling at your feet trying to do whatever it takes to please you.


This is the road that will tell you to eat the Nutella and that, no, it won't end up on your hips.


For the most part, this road has blockades on it with DO NOT ENTER ROAD NOT IN USE signs littering the entrance. But, somewhere along the way there must also be a sign that says:

ENTER AT YOUR OWN RISK

Because sometimes, there I am. Back on the road. Looking in my review mirror and wondering how I managed to bypass all the warning signs. Yet again.

That road sucks.

Luckily for me, while it's still (barely) in use for certain people, it's become a very short road.

You Did This

Every so often I get a glimpse of you.



Sometimes that's enough to help me realize what I don't want in life. Sometimes that's enough to make me realize what I'm missing.


Sometimes that's enough to make me wonder why it feels like I found you in a dream.


I guess memories are funny like that. Once someone is gone from your life, it's hard to remember a time where they felt real. Even the memories are crowded with dream-like wispy clouds to make you wonder if it was all just in your imagination. All the feelings and all the experiences that came with the feelings.


Even though it doesn't seem real, it had to have been because I know for a tangible fact that I am forever affected by it.


By you.

She says Living Well....

". . . is the best revenge," or so my grandmother's maxim went, one of many sayings she loved to incite. The point wasn't so much the literal meaning of the words - I never could figure out who exactly I was supposed to be getting revenge against, for example - but rather, what I took from them was the joy and complete conviction in her voice as she spoke.

Memaw who was very much a mother in all the meaningful ways to me, maintained that she was 29 and holding up until the day of my Pawpaw's passing. So 86 is an educated guess, but it's telling about both her marvelously stubborn nature and adherence to appearances.

And yet she was not just full of pithy sayings and respect for formal traditions. Without complaint, she marched me to theater productions, special museum exhibits, and lunch at Woolworth's where I first learned to appreciate outrageously scrumptious Monkey Bread with strawberry butter. She bought me my first set of engraved Good Paper & demanded/taught me to write the "bread and butter" note. She was a great cook and seamstress and was on every board in the county. She was always busy but she ensured that my brother's and sister's and I had a top-quality education, and made many, many personal sacrifices to ensure that it happened. No library trip or book was denied, nor any other learning or cultural opportunity. Through her obvious eccentricities - and there were many, the lurid blue eyeshadow being just the frosting on the Estee Lauder caked foundation - and flaws and private demons, I always knew that she prioritized family in her funny, odd way above all else - and isn't that all that we can ask of a parent, really?

As any good daughter / granddaughter is prone to do, I spent my adolescence fighting all of this, my melodramatic exit from sixth grade being the first of my many Crimes Against Feminine Tradition. Because no sixth grader, particularly a painfully awkward one entirely afraid of actual boys, should be forced to learn the Virginia Reel but that's a subject for a different post. In any event, I struggled mightily against her teaching until I hit age 21 or so, when the feminine graces started to sneak in somehow.

It was then that I realized that I really did, and do, love Good Paper, and taking a stab at being nice to other people even when every fiber of my being doesn't feel like it (most of the time, that is), and appreciating the arts and incredible writing and all the other things that make each day a little more beautiful. I began the path to redemption in her eyes by becoming a teacher. I plan to greatly advance my cause back into grace by marrying the Grandmother-endorsed Doctor / Laywer/ and-or Respectable Businessman (any of the above being equally desirable), but I've come to suspect this lady business is a bit of a lifelong learning process.

So in Grandmother's honor, I raise my symbolic flute of Veuve - a love of champagne being a family tradition and all - and share with you my formal china and sterling silver patterns. Yes, my china and silver patterns. While this might strike some of you as odd or irreverent, it is the very highest form of tribute I can conceive of for this very special, independent lady. Because second to my becoming a well-educated, well-rounded woman of substance, or at least effectuating the appearance of same, the subjects most discussed over our NM or Four Seasons brunches since I've reached the age of majority were - formal china and silver patterns.

She is the best dancer, seamstress, make-up artist I know! She gave me the Farm but what I really want are her dancing shoes from Lord and Taylor! And I'm so thrilled to be going to Macy's for my first fur coat that you swear I need!

Memaw, you are incredible. There isn't enough Good Paper to tell you how much you mean to me.

Dear Third Grade!

Dear students in my new class,

I already adore you. Sure, you don’t need me in the same ways as my class last year but you still are so innocent and entertaining. While reading to you about Terry Fox, I looked up and realized that not a single one of you were playing with toys in your desk or were blowing spit bubbles. All 23 of you sat in rapt attention and a few of you looked close to tears as we talked about what it must have taken to get up each morning and run, like Terry did. And when one of you raised your hand and said that the only other person who you thought was a hero besides Terry Fox was Nick Jonas because he has diabetes, you said it so sincerely that I just could not laugh. This is going to be an amazing year.


Love,

Ms. Warner

My Summer

Summer came and went too quickly. I'm back at school which means I will have more time to devote to my blog which I abandoned along with my treadmill this summer.

Summer was fantastic! It was a whirlwind of pie baking and sleepovers and dress freakouts and pictures posed while modeling. There’s been swimming in clear water, fighting grasshoppers and napping under trees. There’s been last minute speech meltdowns and celebratory high fives. There’s been gasps over the hair, sighs over the kiss and a successful mission to recapture a flower girl gone rogue. I traveled, I ate too much, painted, shopped and spent too much money!

With Autumn around the corner comes a new workout routine, more free time, and letting go of the past.

I was elected an officer to an association that means everything to me. Of course lots of traveling and new people and experiences are on the horizon. I'm off to Chicago and I can't wait :)

My friend, B

I’m always shocked when people ask me for advice. Mostly because I’m someone who can never decide on which shoes to wear, or how to wear my hair and I have been known to call people to ask what I should eat for dinner. I’m still unsure of how to parallel park, bake brownies without burning them or have a relationship that’s more meaningful than the one I currently have with Jon Stewart.

However.

I recently was talking with a friend who was in the process of breaking up with his current girlfriend. How does one end a relationship? Suddenly, I could feel my brain stretching to hold all the thoughts I had on this topic. As someone who has been broken up with, I feel it’s my civic duty to share what I learned in order to stop hopeless lads from following in the footsteps of my clueless ex-boyfriend.

Thus, I’ve broken down the rules to remember if you ever find yourself in the unfortunate situation of wanting to quit someone.

Rule #1: Do not, I repeat, do not dump someone on their birthday.
Um, yeah. Getting dumped on your birthday is about as fun as getting a pap smear with a cactus. Birthdays are seen as a time to celebrate so getting dumped on one is usually a complete shock to the person who is getting the news. Also, it ruins future birthdays, since you will have a handy built in reminder every year of what happened on that day. It’s a toss-up as to what sticks with you longer- remembering your 5th birthday when you got a pony, or remembering your 23rd birthday when you were dumped out of nowhere (No really, it happened). Although, the plus side is you usually get to eat their slice of cake. So I mean, at least there’s that.

Rule #2: When honesty isn’t the best policy
So you are dumping her because you dislike her family? She has man hands? You’ve found someone who wears cooler shoes? Don’t say that. Really. There’s a nasty rumor going around that being completely honest is the way to go- that is a lie. Being completely honest when it’s going to hurt their feelings even more isn’t selfless- it’s selfish. Because the only person who feels better ‘sharing it all’ is you. And when you are dumping someone, the last thing you should be thinking about is how you can most clearly express how they don’t measure up to the new person you fancy. Or just how annoying their voice is on the phone. Chances are your soon-to-be ex will not take this well- and will begin beating you with her footwear.

Rule #3: Don’t make it public
I understand the idea of wanting to break up with someone in a public place. There’s less chance of yelling, tears, extreme physical abuse with a pointy stiletto. But, I think it’s also disrespectful. If you have been dating for longer than 3 days, there’s a chance there will be tears and creating a situation where someone is forced to cry (and maybe even do the ugly cry) in public just isn’t Cary Grant classy (And yes, Cary Grant Classy is what we are striving for afterall.

Rule #4: Exit Strategy
So you’ve broken up. You’ve said sorry, you’ve talked it out, wished each other well. Now leave. Do not linger. If you are say, in a hotel room, stop being cheap and pay for another room. Forcing your presence on someone whom you’ve just shunned is usually more painful than the break up. Trust me.

Rule #5: Friends?
Realize that depending on personality, length of relationship, reason for ending it, an ex may not want to be friends with you. In a perfect world all ex’s would meet up for coffee on Tuesdays and laugh at the ridiculousness of them dating. They would swap vacation photos and be invited to each others weddings. But it’s not a perfect world. And the worse your break up job is, the less likely she’s going to want to be friends afterwards. So have a little Cary Grant class, a little compassion and maybe one day she will want to be your friend. Or maybe just your facebook friend. Or maybe nothing. That is the chance you take, when you dive into the dating pool.
I think that’s it.

Good luck dear friend. I hope it ends without physical abuse and that you show both respect and thoughtfulness in a time when both are needed.

Signs you may need a man

My dearest twenty-something singleton friend just phoned with details of her latest wildly romantic escapade. I'm talking bodice-ripper, scandalous yet soulful pirate on the romance novel cover level of escapade. After a in depth dish session, she then asked what sorts of excitement I'd gotten myself into lately.

Having recently covered my tedious thirty-something basics - my education, career, house, - I signed off of the call shortly thereafter, resigned and, if I'm being honest, perhaps just a little sad. Not that my friendship is by any means competitive, but our conversation reminded me that my days of calling friends to dissect the man du jour have hit a dry spell!

And then, not five minutes later, inspiration struck me - immature inspiration, admittedly, but inspiration nonetheless - as I grabbed my Blackberry. Pulse racing, I snapped a picture, pressed "send", and breathed a sigh of relief as I realized that I haven't left all impulsive love affairs behind me along with my 20s

I sent my friend a photo of my handbag. Yes. My handbag. I may not have any hot, tantalizing romances with hot gents but, by God, I'm clinging to the right to love & cherish fashion which I find on sale, 'til death - or American Express - do us part.

Knowing Myself and Knowing I'm not Like Meg Ryan

It's taken me 32 years to fully accept this but I’m finally there. I never wanted to be current Meg Ryan (I like the size of my lips just fine), I always had hopes of being Meg Ryan of yesterday. You know, “When Harry Met Sally” Meg Ryan or even better “When You’ve Got Mail” Meg Ryan. When people see her in those movies they throw around words like ‘adorable’ and ‘endearing’ and who doesn’t want to be that? Plus she was the poster girl for how quirky could be sexy. And when you are 5″4 clumsy and don’t own red lipstick? You embrace quirky like a warm blanket on a cold night.

The thing is, Meg Ryan (or more accurately her character- yes, I do blur the lines between fantasy and reality on a regular basis. Perhaps this is why Ryan Reynolds isn’t returning my calls?), differ in one important area. Okay, if you count the ability to wake up with great hair, we differ in TWO areas. I will never be a girl who cuddles while sleeping.

See, if you watch any Meg movie (or any movie geared towards those possessing ovaries) you will notice that the classic “couple sleep” pose is man on his back, woman splaying herself all over him, cuddled up like a koala bear clinging to a tree branch. And she’s always fast asleep, her face nuzzled in the perfectly groomed chest hair of a man who manages to pull off the trifecta of being sexy, funny and able to say exactly the right thing before the two hour movie is up.

I can’t do that. I need my space.

It’s not that I’m anti- cuddling, I enjoy a cuddle as much as the next girl- but when it comes to sleep? I need some room. And not “you move one inch over but let’s still hold hands when we sleep” space. I need “stay on your side” sort of space. Legs can tangle, arms can drift- and I actually like the idea of them being close enough that I can feel the warmth of their body near mine but a whole body smashed up against mine while I’m working on getting some REM cycles? No thanks. There are roughly 901 things a couple can do in bed (thanks Cosmo for setting unrealistic expectations for all future bed partners) but sleeping is one that I have to do alone.

I’ve been thinking about this lately and when it comes to actual dating- I’m the same way. I sleep how I love. I’m all for couple time but I’ve never understood the couples who have to do everything together. I cringe knowing that this cliche is going to leave my brain but I need space. I need time away, time alone. Maybe this is just growing out of a particular phase or maybe it’s just growing up- realizing independence isn’t a dirty word. But I need a world where I can sleep without being crushed by the weight of you. I’m a small person after all.

I wish just one time Meg Ryan would have told a man she needed some sleeping room. That there’s a fine line between basking in the heat radiating off the one person you adore and feeling the crushing weight of their body while attempting to get sleep after practicing some moves learned in the last issue of Cosmo. I wish Meg would have said she could do a million things with the man she loved but sleep was something she needed to do alone. I wish she would have one time told a man that telling him to shove over to his side didn’t mean she loved him less- it meant she loved him enough to show him this side of her. I wish she would have said that it’s important to spend time a part- even in bed, because in the morning when you reach across the tangled galaxy of blankets and pillows and find someone on the other side reaching back for you, well that’s the best feeling in the world.

I Can Relate

She Asked Me A 30 Something Single Girl For Advice!

You know, I get it. Me giving marriage advice is like, Lindsay Lohan giving tips on sobriety. Or Kanye West give lessons on modesty. Or Jenna Jameson talking about the virtues of virginity.

I think I just compared myself to a porn star.

Let’s just move along.

As many of you know, the always lovely Laura is getting married. What you may not know is that she’s been my secret idol since she she met Chelsea Clinton and I may or may not have volunteered my life (more than once) to getting her into public office (Laura, not Chelsea). She’s the kind of girl I’m insanely jealous of- she’s funny and thoughtful and honest. She goes to see Billy Joel in concert and she fully understands any of my tweets and Plus? She watches "NCIS" and knows how damn hot Gibbs is.

So when I was asked if I wanted to participate in a shower of course I said yes. I decided that although I may not be married, I know plenty of very lovely people who are and decided to ask them to open their knowledge basket and share what they thought made marriages last. Here are some of my favorite (direct quotes) from people I know (and people I wish I did) giving marriage advice.

1. “Always be the first person to say sorry. Not only will you look like the bigger person, but it’s great to bring up the next time you fight. It’s automatic leverage!” (I think this person was kidding).



2. “Keep the fights clean and the sex dirty”- Kevin Bacon


3. “Make it easy for him to remember why he married you” uncle John (which? Was sort of a rip-off of another piece of advice he once gave me)

4. “Have sex in your friends bathroom”- Jada Pinkett Smith (okay, she said it differently, but I like my version better).

5. "Be kind.”

I am so, so happy for Miss Laura and can’t wait to hear all about her married life. I wish her nothing but the very best and plenty of #4. Congratulations on getting married lovely!

And I'm going to enjoy this beautiful wedding!

To My Third Grade Class

We have 30 days left together. You don't realize this yet - You are just eight years old and the only thing you count down to is Christmas. You are living for Soccer at recess, Spelling games, and Art on Fridays. You live for computer class free time and the moment you can multiply 6x7. That's one one of my favorite things about you- you are too busy filling up today to worry about tomorrow.

And you have filled up my year beyond my greatest expectations. We acted out the Solar System, made up Math games, we wrote pirate stories. We held dance offs and learned to square dance in the gym. We built secret forts to read in. When we were all hit with the flu we curled up in balls on the floor with stuffed animals and watched Bill Nye the science guy. We pretended to be explorers as we navigated maps. We were Architects as we built bridges out of popsicle sticks and play dough. We laughed as we read Superfudge. We sang along to Julie Andrews. We talked about love and we bit our pencils as we created our own masterpieces. When we read The Giving Tree that Doctor Brian suggested to me, we didn't laugh when others cried.

We had a burping contest when we learned why the body burps.

There have been endless show and tells and knock-knock jokes and band aids applied gingerly. Hugs and high fives have been countless. When Elizabeth joined the Polo team we all cheered. When Jacob broke his arm we all signed his cast with hearts and smiley faces. When Evan puked we all ran to get towels and bleach. Even Evan cracked a smile.
When we found out that lice had entered the school we all scratched our heads.

Maybe that's just what happens when you get older, you look past today and look toward the future. I can see the last day already with flip flops and Popsicle stained lips and saggy backpacks and sweaty high fives. Each of you will exclaim as you uncover lost treasures as you pack up your desks - cans of play dough, a lost marker, a post card from Drew when he went to Disney World in October. I can already see your smiles as you run back to give me one last hug as you happily skip to your bus without looking back. And I will be forced to let you go for the summer, to tradition, to a new teacher in the fall.

So tomorrow will be 29 days left with you. And I will think of that number when we discuss Shel Silverstein, learn division, and understand why we use quotation marks. I will smile and as you hand me the picture you drew of a girl and her teacher with smiley happy faces and bright lips. I will be thankful and laugh as the lunch bell rings and I'll put on a song that I downloaded just because I knew you all would love it. And I never realized just how much I would end up loving you.

Some people go through their lives hating there jobs. Thank you for making me love mine everyday. Stay young as long as possible. Continue to sing your heart out to Julie Andrews. Stay just as you are as long as you can be. And when it's time I can't wait for you to grow up. You're all going to be something spectacular.

Love,

Miss Warner

Mommy

Today is Mother's day and how blessed am I? My cup runneth over. My Mother and I don't always agree, but she is everything I hope to be :) She always gives the best advice and has been there for me and my friends when we need her the most. She's a doting grandmother and a very proud Mommy. She has a heart of gold and she's flawless.

Happy Mutter's Day ;)

I Can't Wait!

I can't wait for Summer, yall! I cant believe it's March already. You know what that means? That means June, July and August are right around the corner and that means I'll be out of school and enjoying my time off in Georgetown or at the Farm or at home. I'm going to start tannin to get that I-just-returned-from-Barbados skin tone.

I also can not wait for Glee. I have a huge crush on Puckerman :) I'm busy planning with my friends who arent currently pregnant where I'm headed for meh birthday. somewhere warm and toasty. Suggestions are always welcome.

So Like..

Kids these days. What the hell is wrong with them? I just got back from attempting to enjoy an evening coffee at Starbucks, but instead of savoring the aromatic goodness that is coffee, I found myself eavesdropping on a couple of teenage girls having what I can only assume was a conversation.

Without exaggeration, in the span of 15 minutes one of the girls used the word "like" 112 times. Do the math, kiddies... That's more than 7 per minute! 1 every 8 seconds!!

If this is how kids talk these days, then I weep for the future. Both of these sweethearts were pretty, dressed nicely and not once did I hear a swear word from either of them. But is their vocabulary so extraordinarily limited that every other word has to be "like"?? This bubblehead even finished a few of her sentences with "like".

"I was, like, you know, trying to tell him, like, that he has to go to, like, math class, like!" I think my ears started to bleed at that point.

Maybe it isn't the kids' fault that they're idiots. Perhaps the funding for our education system has been reduced so much that the school boards have resorted to cutting basic programming such as knuckle-dragging, mouth breathing and English.

Or maybe the parents are to blame. After all, if kids grow up listening to terrible speech and grammar then it's only natural that they'll pick up those same habits, right? We do learn by example afterall.

But then that must mean that the general population surrounding these moron kids is linguistically inept!

Or is it TV? Shaggy from Scooby Doo must've imprinted on their tiny, maleable, peanut brains!

Oh, these poor, poor children! What are we going to do??

I don't care whose fault it is. Stop talking like a Valley Girl and let me enjoy my coffee before I toss you into the trash can. Like.

I Never Regret...

My Latte with three splenda

A nap

Buying the extra insurance

Wearing the pink lipstick

Bringing my camera

The extra 10 mins on the treadmill

Listening to Soul Decision's 'Faded'

Saying I'm sorry

Telling them I love you

Adding extra blueberries to the pancake mix

Booking the trip

Packing extra outfits

Ordering water at 2 am

Not waiting for the kiss

Asking for help

WHAT DO YOU NEVER REGRET?